My Evil Ways
by Cindersprks
Summary: Love was violence, blindness and the kiss of cold steel against flesh and bone. The harbinger of loss, the depraved mistress that pulled at marionette strings with blood stained fingers. And caused lost souls to devour the darkness inside themselves, unwound their souls and stitched them back together again with a hellfire crooked needle.
1. Authors Note

Authors Note

I have always wanted to write a Batman slash fiction, I have been a fan of the genre for a long time but always found that it was difficult for me get inside their heads, especially the Joker. But after reading various novels and playing through the Arkham games I think that I am finally ready to take a shot at putting my Joker down on paper.

Surprisingly this isn't a Batman/Joker, at least not strictly speaking. I feel like there are enough of those stories and I wanted to perhaps try something new as to why the Joker is the way that he is.

This story will begin in Arkham Origins and find its end at Arkham Knight. Now, I suppose that I have prattled on enough. Please, I hope that you enjoy reading this story and much as I enjoyed writing it.


	2. Prelude: Sinners and Saints

"I found out

The hate grow cold

The god rise up

And damn my soul

Cause I ain't change, change my ways

I ain't change

So I wont hide, I wont hide, I can't hide

I can't hide

My evil ways" ~ Blues Saraceno

"He isn't the devil unless he has fire in his eyes" ~Justin Cross

"It was me who chose a life of sin, nothing more" ~Jack Napier

The first time they had met had been an accident, a cruel twist in the threads of fate that bound them together. It was hilarious if he thought about it, the gods driving home the final coffin nail in his crucifixion. And he had been taken away, the reason for his living his breathing, gone. The man that has had been savior, his archangel...his lover. Whenever that memory managed to scream louder than the demons in his head the world and all its madness actually went still for one blissful, beautiful moment. But it also caused fear to dig its needle sharp teeth into the base of his brain but this was a fleeting emotion terror was a frivolous thing when you bore the title of the King of Chaos. He wore that mantle well a dancing demon dressed in purple silk wearing a razor blade grin. But the crown wrought from the bones of dead rested heavily upon his head. Deep inside the abyss of his soul he knew that he has just a steward to that corpse-throne, he had gazed upon the face of true Chaos a fallen angel on a white horses back.

It was Love.

That naughty four letter word, that screaming bitch, that filthy whore.

Yes Love.

Love.

Love.

Love the true eldritch queen of Chaos...of death and despair. A cruel courtesan that drove men into the tempest of madness. Love was violence, blindness and the kiss of cold steel against flesh and bone. The harbinger of loss, the depraved mistress that pulled at marionette strings with blood stained fingers. And caused lost souls to devour the darkness inside themselves, unwound their souls and stitched them back together again with a hellfire crooked needle. Her creations were a cruel and terrible beauty. Forged pawns that rose up from their ashes as psychotic jesters or dark pious knights.

 _It didn't matter._

 _Sinners, saints all the same._

 _And that was the big joke wasn't it?_

 _The punchline to life._

 _And it was so fucking funny!_

He was a fallen angel just like all the rest no matter how revenant they were in their bourne-again flesh they couldn't wash off the grime that stained their souls. He could see them and would cut away those facades with blades honed of loathing had been taken...taken torn away from him.

 _Nothing, they had left me with nothing. But that's alright I am going to burn their heaven down. Drag them screaming into the gutters and hold their heads beneath the blood dregs of their brothers, their kin, their lovers, until they drowned, until they are as dead as I am._

It was enough to make him laugh but the snarling peals of laughter did nothing to stop the tears of sorrow that spilled from eyes the hue of emerald acid. Oh, he adored him to a carnal hysteria the twisted ethereal experiment of Scarecrow more beast than man and he yearned for his touch more than his beloved Dark Knight.


End file.
